


Let Me Drive You Home.

by Walden_Pond221



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walden_Pond221/pseuds/Walden_Pond221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long rainy days in New Jersey aren't always miserable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Drive You Home.

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Déjame llevarte a casa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795955) by [DannoandCassio4400](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannoandCassio4400/pseuds/DannoandCassio4400), [Walden_Pond221](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walden_Pond221/pseuds/Walden_Pond221)



     It had been two long days at Princeton Plainsboro. His patient had almost died twice and only now had it looked like they were finally out of the weeds. Before he was called into another crisis House wanted to get to bed as fast as physically possible.  
  
“Where you going?” Wilson piped, catching up with House in the hallway.  
  
“Home. I’ve been up since yesterday so stay out of my way.” he growled. Wilson threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m headed out too. Drive you?”  
  
“My bike’s plenty fast Wilson.”  
  
Wilson stepped in front of him, arms crossed. House suppressed the urge to shove him out of the way.

“It’s pouring out.”

“So?”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“I’ve got the bike. Buzz off.”  
Wilson shot him a look somewhere between disappointment and annoyance that House couldn’t shrug off.

“Ugh. You’re insufferable.” He groaned.  
Wilson smiled brightly. House shouldered his backpack and the two boarded the elevator. Muzak drifted through the speakers only serving to darken House’s already bleak mood.

“Before you ask about work or anything else stupid know this James Wilson: I. Do. Not. Want. To. Talk.” House announced. Wilson nodded and scrolled through his phone. Though the gruff doctor would never admit it he liked being with Wilson. He loved the fact someone cared about him, would even miss him if he was gone.

     Sitting in the front seat of Wilson’s BMW House raked a hand through his already unkempt hair. Taking all of Wilson’s willpower not to scooch over and fix it for him, he started the car. Once out of the parking garage the rain fell in earnest. Buckets pounded the sleek black vehicle as thunder rolled overhead. Wilson’s car was warm and dry and for that House was supremely thankful. An instrumental piece rolled out of the silky speakers and not once but twice the oncologist caught his partner nodding off. Wilson looked over at the older man, his chocolate eyes bright. House caught him staring while parked at a red light.

“What?”

“You remember that time at that bar?” 

"We've been to a lotta bars Wilson. Be specific."

"The one in Tennessee? After the conference? You were plastered and I had to practically pour you into the cab." 

“Maybe. Sorta. Why?”

“I was just remembering something you said to me.”

“Oh, yeah?”  Wilson smiled to himself. 

 “What?”

“You know what you said House. It was early in the night, before the tequila shots.”  
The memory struck him. His hand on his neck, staring, watching, forgetting everyone else. A little buzzed. A peck on the cheek and a whisper in his ear of _'I love you. Please don't leave me.'_ A brutally honest, drunken confession neither of them could forget. Gregory House hadn’t blushed that brightly since he was sixteen years old and Melissa Gleason had dumped him in front of the whole sophomore class. He stared daggers into the passing scenery, not daring to look at _him_.

“You said you loved me House.”

“No I-I was drunk. It was stupid-“  
Wilson shook his head, that stupid smile plastered to his face.

“No, no.”

“Look Wilson I’m-“ House stammered trying desperately to snatch his words from Wilson’s mind. Wilson pulled over to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”  
Four words no one ever wanted to hear. House’s heart pounded, he felt his ribs were about to splinter. Wilson pried his hands off the wheel and focused on House.

“Look at me.”  
Rain pattered down the windows. The engine hummed. Their eyes met.

“Did you mean it?”  
He’d seen Wilson a million times. Hallways, operating rooms, exam rooms, lunch rooms. But now he was looking at him, straight and true. He was beautiful. Suddenly the car was too warm, his collar too tight. Thunder boomed again, or was that his pounding heart? His mind was spinning. He looked down. Wilson’s hand was on his. It felt so right, their fingers knitted together as they had always meant to be. House leaned into Wilson. Their foreheads touched. Soft piano drifted through the car as their lips met. Lightning flashed. House broke the kiss only to say, “I did.”


End file.
